Engel's Zimmer
by Pashleyy
Summary: Haru, a senior in high school, bumbles upon the memory of her dearly beloved friend and visits him years after they last met. But what she finds is a nightmare beyond any warm and cozy Bureau.
1. Unbelievers

This is my first swipe at a Cat Returns fanfiction. The ending just didn't . . . didn't seem to fit really, in my humble opinion.

If you haven't seen _Whisper of the Heart_, the main character Shizuku makes a cameo appearance, and I hope I explained her well enough. She's an awfully bright character, and I adore her very much.

Please enjoy: D

**

* * *

**

_Engel's Zimmer  
_**Chapter 1 ---_Unbelievers_**

"Haru! That dress is beautiful!" Hiromi marveled, clasping her hands together giddily. Indeed, the Senior looked stunning in that evening gown; cropped at the shoulders to slide down a bare back, a diamond studded where the straps met above the knot in her backbone.

The young woman smiled and twirled once in front of the dressing mirrors. Haru Yoshioka, over the brief years in High School, had blossomed into a stunning young lady with unruly short hair and an open, confident face. Though, she had to thank a special cat for that --- a figurine, technically.

The Baron, a beautifulstatuette derived from the magical imagination of his creator who's name she could never find, but did indeed find a woman who also knew Baron. The woman knew him differently though, from a little antique shop her fiancé's grandfather owned. That said woman stood next to Hiromi just then, also admiring Haru's dress.

"It really is pretty," Shizuku, the woman, commented. "The silver brings out your eyes."

Haru blushed. "But it's so expensive! Look at the price!"

"How much," asked the go-lucky writer, "would you pay to be the prettiest girl at the dance?"

Both Hiromi and Haru glared to her, who laughed and shrugged, tapping her pencil to her lips, a pad in her hands to jot down random thoughts. Just then she scribbled one down.

Hiromi grinned and turned back to Haru. "But she's right, you know."

"But it's so expensive! My whole house couldn't have cost this much!"

Shizuku sighed and thought in her creative sense. "Alright," both girls turned to her, "pretend the one you're meeting at the dance is Baron Humbert Von Jiki---" her notepad raised just in time to deflect a flying shoe, a sock, and whatever else Haru had close to her.

"That's horrible! You know that he can't l ---" Haru stopped herself in mid-sentence, suddenly aware that after all these years, Hiromi still didn't know about the Baron or her strange adventures in the Cat Kingdom. Only Shizuku knew, and that was by accident, but even the acclaimed novelist didn't know the details that it _wasn't_ a dream, and that the character she birthed in her first novel became more than wood, morning coat, and a top hat.

He indeed had a voice

A wonderful set of eyes

And a living heartbeat.

"Anyway," Haru continued quickly, twisting her fingers. "It's too expensive. I liked the green one with the strapless shoulders." With that, she turned back into the dressing room to change.

Hiromi blinked and gave Shizuku a confused glance. "Who's this Baron?"

"A cat figurine she and I have been acquainted with."

"Oh."

**---**

That night, Haru set her cow alarm, laid back in bed, and rolled up in her covers, facing the open window. It was an awfully beautiful sky tonight, with the stars all twinkling and moon shining like the sun against inky darkness.

Before this afternoon, she hadn't even mentioned Baron's name, or longed to see his face --- the cat face that it was. Now . . . she couldn't get her mind off it. Laying in bed, only thinking about him made her somewhat disgusted. All these years thoughts of him had eluded her gracefully. Tonight they came like a sudden summer shower, drenching her in memories of long-forgotten adventure.

_Life would be better as a cat._

What a foolish thought, she now knew.

_Life would be better if I was popular,_ she'd later said in life.

Maybe, but that wouldn't solver her Single Awareness problem. Even after she'd gotten over Machida, no guy took a second look at her and kept staring. Sure, a second glance, but never for long. It was almost repetitive to have a one-night stand on each date. They weren't that fun anymore.

Hiromi and Tsuge were still a couple. That was almost a miracle in itself after all these years. Shizuku, after all her waiting, finally received her love after ten years of waiting. _Ten_ _years_. Seiji better treat her right, Haru couldn't help but think.

Would she have to wait ten years too? If so, who would be her knight? Who'd save her from the dragon, or an evil king, or presents from the Cat Kingdom? No one . . .

. . . well . . .

Maybe _one_ person.

But she'd lost her way to get there, in fact, Muta hasn't been at the Crossroads for a year now. Had they moved? Was Toto still standing with wings wide open in the center of the court to welcome every troubled visitor?

One way to find out.

Haru sat up in bed, not believing for a moment she was doing this. Was it from relapse? Maybe the urge to see Baron would suddenly vanish when she got there.

Cramming into her blue jeans, she hopped over to her windbreaker and slipped it on. It was a chilly night, would her feet get cold if she didn't wear socks? "Oh, forget it!" she whispered fretfully, pulling on her slip-ons without socks as she rushed down the stairs and out the front door. Her mother was a heavy sleeper, she wouldn't even know her daughter was missing.

WhenHaru reached the barren Crossroads,she looked around. Which way to go? Four roads, one right way. "The table was here," she remembered, "and Muta sat right here when I sat on him, so . . .when I turned, he yawned and took off in . . ." studying the signs, she recognized one almost instantly. Her face brightened. "That way!"

Maybe things weren't at all hopeless. Now she remembered coming this way, through that alleyway, over the tin roof, across the wooden stones . . . the walls were getting shorter now, the pathways narrower. Another turn, two more hops . . . a right ---

Haru halted at the sight of the white marble archway, the statue in the center with wings wide open, and the small, quaint house in the corner, outlandish compared to the other impassive structures. A smile crept upon her face as she ducked under the archway and rubbed the stone feathers of Toto.

"Hi, long time," she greeted to the immovable object, sure he could hear. "You look as well as ever."

It was amazing how she didn't mind talking to a statue, for she knew he was real. Or so she thought.

"Toto? You can talk to me now. I'm not a stranger, you know. It's Haru, remember?"

Again, as quiet as stone. Her face fell.

"Toto?"

"He's not there anymore," came a bored, familiar voice.

Haru twirled around. "Muta?" The cat snorted, walking out of the dark Cat Bureau. Strange, were the lights ever off at night? . . . "What happened to this place? It's so dead."

"Death happened," he replied nonchalantly, but the flick of his ears told of his sadness. When Haru didn't comment, he went on, "Death came a year ago, and it took the souls of the birdbrain and Baron." The young woman turned pale. "They didn't know their soul only lasted as long as someone believed it did."

"B-But I ---"

"You weren't here," he cut in sharply, "and you had forgotten. Do you think Baron just up and leaves after his job is done? No, he watched you for a while on while you forgot about us."

Haru was taken back by the sudden outburst.

"You'd forgotten, and don't start crying now. I'm too old for this." Then he slammed the Bureau doors shut for the final time. "I'm leaving."

Aghast, the young woman stopped the cat from going anywhere by stepping in front. "Where? --- What about Baron and Toto ---"

"Forget 'em kid," the cat said. "Like before. Forget 'em."

"I can't!" In her disbelief, she grabbed Muta by the clump of skin at the back of his neck and held him up. "I can't Muta!" This had to be a dream --- please say it was a dream! She wanted to think it a dream so badly. "I . . . I never could."

The fat cat only hung there, looking lazily to the human as if someone confessed their love for someone in front of him every day. Then he squirmed a bit and fell from her grasp. "Alright, kid. But I don't know how we'll get them back."

"Neither do I, but Baron didn't give up on me and I'm not about to do the same!"

Muta only sighed and trudged into the forgotten house again, then came out with a beautifully crafted statuette with glimmering eyes . . .

"Engel's Zimmer."

The cat huffed the statuette down and patted his paws against his sides. "What? Whatis that?"

"It's the mistake of a craftsman when they lay down a fabric," she pointed out, fingering the wooden eyes. "See? The light touches them differently at different angles." It was almost mesmerizing to look at. Picking up the statuette, she held it close, then turned to Toto. "But we can't take him though."

"That birdbrain? Who'd wanna? Now I'm off ---"

"Wait," Haru turned back to the fat cat. "Where you going?"

He shrugged.

"Would you like to come back with me?"

Muta looked skeptical at her.

"Mom makes really good Angel Fruitcake!"

"Is it far?"

**---**

Haru crept up the stairs to her room, one arm around a squiggling Muta, the other clasped tightly around the figurine. Inside, she closed the door and set the cat down, putting Baron gently on her dresser. The young woman collapsed exhaustedly onto her bed, biting her bottom lip. She'd promised herself not to cry, but the more she thought, the worse Baron's predicament seemed.

"Muta, what are we going to do?"

"Find a nice antique cabinet to keep him in," Muta replied, then on second thought, answered, "We'll find some way."

"Yes," by now her voice crackled with unshed tears.

Fatso leaped onto her bed and sat down beside her. That was when she burst out crying, not able to hold any of it in any longer. "Let it out kid," he kept muttering as he patted her shoulder, "let it all out."

So she did, she cried herself to sleep thinking it was all her fault. Maybe if she wouldn't have forgotten, they'd still be alive. Or if she'd taken regular trips to the Bureau during those long-forgottenyears . . . or even if she'd told Hiromi! It would have been one more person to believe, one more person to keep them alive. Alive and well.

_And just for the record, I admire a young woman who speaks from the heart._

Oh, she spoke from the heart, spilled ever thought out until sleep caught her tightly and took her away, her arms wrapped around the fat cat and the statuette, and dreamed about running down the murder of crows, gliding, hopping, skipping with a smile . . .

"_Haru . . ._"

* * *

_Continue: Yes? No?_


	2. Hand Me Down

Wow. Thank you everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it. And now, without further ado, here is Chapter 3 --- errr --- **2**!

* * *

_Engel's Zimmer_  
**Chapter 2 ---**_**Hand-Me-Down**_

"Muta, can you think of _anything_?" Haru asked as she sat down at the kitchen table, stirring her tea. Morning had come with no surprise. Baron was still a stiff wooden figurine, and Muta was still as hungry as she'd ever seen him. He garfed down another platter of her mother's Angel Fruitcake without so much as a chew and proceeded to the pancakes.

Haru sighed and quickly snagged one pancake to eat herself before fatso ate them all. "There has to be some way . . . or else how could he have come alive in the first place?"

Muta shrugged and downed the first syrupy pancake. "Maybe someone _made_ him come to life? I don't know, kid, I met him ages before he made himself a name at the Bureau. In fact, I blundered by him one day in an antique shop, he couldn't even walk since he was a wooden toy without much of anything, and asked me to lead someone to him. I didn't know why and never cared to ask."

"But, it was because he didn't have a complete soul yet, right?"

"I think so, now that you mention it. So I lead a girl to him."

Haru sipped her tea, recalling Miss Shizuku's story. "What was her name?"

He shrugged. "Kid, I can't remember the girl's name, but Baron told me what she looked like, so I led her to the craft-guys shop and she saw him."

"Was her name Shizuku Tsukishima?"

"Yeah! That's the human's name." Another pancake went to the wasted space in his stomach. "Why?"

Haru grimly smiled. "She wrote about the Baron when she was in junior high. Now she's a famous writer --- we studied about her my junior year of high school. Do you think she . . .?"

The last pancake vanished from the plate. "One way to find out, kiddo."

---

The sweet string music swelled and vanished as Haru and Muta listened from outside the front door. Beautiful music, so grand that the notes almost seemed to float by. Ringing the doorbell would be rude at this time while Seiji tested and played a newly built instrument, so they resorted to listening from outside until Shizuku walked up behind them from a trip to the grocery mart.

"Haru?" the novelist asked, "What are you doing here?"

The young woman spun around, her hand tightly on her purse with the Baron inside. "Shizuku-san . . . I wanted to ask you a few questions."

Shizuku stared down at the strangely familiar fat cat with a raised eyebrow. "About what, dear?"

"The Baron."

"Baron?" the woman had to think for a moment. "_Oh_, that Baron. Then come on inside, Seiji can forgive us for interrupting his art." They followed her inside to the kitchen, where she put her food away and sat down at the kitchen table with them. Seiji came in a few minutes later, quite perplexed. "Seiji, this is Haru and . . ."

"Muta," Haru replied quickly. She didn't know if Shizuku could hear Muta, so it would be better if he didn't speak at all. "Or Renaldo Moon, however really."

The author glanced to the cat. "Renaldo Moon? That's the name of the fat cat in the first story I ever wrote. I think Muta serves him better." She watched as the cat climbed into Haru's lap and rested there. "Now, about this Baron."

Seiji interrupted, "The Baron from my grandfather's shop? Is that what this is about? He was stolen a good twelve years ago . . . a few weeks after you, love, last saw him." The bright man took a seat beside his fiancé. "Has he been found?"

Haru squirmed. "Kinda . . ."

The two couple looked to each other questionably. "Kinda?" Shizuku echoed. "Haru, what do you mean? Is it because of that dream you told me about? The one about the Baron?"

The young woman sighed and began to rub Muta around the ears, who gave a grunt and pawed her legs. He didn't much like to be petted, but Haru kept on anyway. "Shizuku-san, I haven't been honest with you. It wasn't a dream --- don't think I'm insane, please --- but it was real. Baron was as real as you or me or Muta."

"A statuette, real?" Seiji shook his head sympathetically. "Haru, a statue cannot come to life." A bit of graceful humor came into his charming voice. "Figurines aren't real."

"But he did, and saved me from the Cat King, he took me on a waltz and guided me through a labyrinth . . . he protected me when the building fell, and he never gave up on me even when I gave up on myself. '_Trust yourself,_' he told me, and I did, but now I need you to trust _me_. Baron is dead. Death took him, and I need to know why."

The couple again exchanged mute thoughts, then turned back to the teenager. Shizuku spoke softly. "Haru, have you been under any stress lately? Final exams are coming, and so is the prom, so maybe you are just ---"

Muta poked his head onto the table to glare at the two humans opposite of him. "She's _not_ crazy, and even if she were, you should still help her."

"Muta!" Haru snapped, shoving him back down onto her lap. It was too late to strap his mouth shut for the couple had already heard the unbelievable cat speak, and suddenly their skeptical faces became ones of disbelief.

Shizuku stared for a long, silent minute before asking again. "Do you have the statuette?" Haru pulled the figurine out gently, and set it down upon the table. The Baron's eyes were dull in the shadows. "Seiji! It _is_ him!" she bent across the table and ran her fingers across Baron's eyes. "But those eyes . . . they're duller than I remember . . ." She looked to the young woman sitting stiff in her chair. "Haru, I believe you."

The young woman shook her head. "It's not a matter on believing me, but believing in the Baron. If we get enough people to believe, maybe he will come back. Maybe he'll come back from Death."

Seiji now took the figurine in his hands to inspect it. "There's not a detail faded, remarkable since all paint fades and wood wears away . . . but this is almost . . ."

Again, the fat cat slunk up from Haru's lap to finish Seiji's sentence. "Magical? How much poking will it take for you two to believe? I'm starving."

"Magical isn't the word," the man remarked, "surreal is the word --- alive. Haru, I will believe, if only to see a work of art alive as you said he was."

"And I will believe too," Shizuku added. "This gives me more than enough incentive to finish my latest story." When Haru looked to her in question, the woman smiled, "I have been trying to rewrite the story of Baron that I had finished as a child, but I stopped a while ago." The writer shook her head sadly. "But I cannot finish it Haru. I've tried and tried. Maybe you can."

Haru gasped, startled. "I couldn't! I can't write . . ."

"Haru, you don't know what you can do until you try. Maybe you should try to finish it and put a little of what you believe into it."

But the young woman shook her head sadly. "But that's the thing. I'm afraid if I believe in it too much, then it will never happen."

---

"Muta, do you ever think of anything else _but_ food?" Haru argued as her cat friend devoured more than half of her fast-food dinner. She poked him in the gut with the butt of her fork. "You gastronome!"

"Hey, don't call me fat! I'm out on a wing for you."

"Alright Moo-ta." Her set frown spread into a small smile. "I remember that, don't you?"

"Vaguely." He guzzled down another handful of fries. "You gotta stop living in the past, kid."

A wise set of words to someone so lost in them, but as deep as Haru burrowed within those cherished memories, if she resurfaced now, Baron would be surely lost forever. Not in a literal since, but in a figurative since inside her very mind.

She knew this too. "Muta, I'd love to put the past behind me, but sometimes you can't let things go as soon as you want to. Sometimes you have to hang on. Hang on so hard that your knuckles turn white and your arms go numb, but you keep on holding on, don't you?"

Muta knew she referred to the fall atop of the portal tower to her world again. That great fall where none of them let go. "But kid," said the helpless cat, "you'll kill yourself trying to bring a figurine that should have never been brought to life, back to the living. Have you ever thought that Death took them away because they were never supposed to live?"

"But then why did God give them the chance when it would only be taken away?"

Muta stared to her, then ate the last fried mushroom from the take-out basket. After he finished off Haru's diner, he pried his nose under her hand like most cats do when they want attention, then heaved her hand onto his head. "That means you scratch it, you know," the fat cat finally queued in, "you know you want to."

The young woman gave a hundred-watt smile, dimmed by a veil of sadness, and scratched the cat's ears. "Thanks for being here, Muta."

He responded with a low, deep purr.

---

Haru flipped through the spiral pages of Shizuku-san's story, head filling with thoughts of dances and mazes and so many cats. Cats, cats, and more cats. Of meowsy dancing and subtle adventure, that burning feeling right in her chest every time she read Baron's name.

How much more of this would she take? It was hard for her to answer such a question. A part of her wanted to throw these spiral pages into the trashcan beside her desk, yet the other half urged her to read forward, push on to uncover some hidden truth. Some miraculous way to bring Baron back from Death.

But miracles only happen for the living . . .

And Baron was very much dead.

* * *

_Strange question, but Continue or No?_ :D 


	3. Bad Memories

Alrighty, thank you everyone who's been reviewing: DSorry that I haven't kept upthatwell. School's been a pain. Garrr. Anywho, enjoy!

* * *

_Engel's Zimmer_  
**Chapter 3 -- Bad Memories **

"_Every good story starts with a memory, Haru._"

Haru didn't know where to start. She had begun with Mrs. Shizuku's story, but that wasn't her own tale to tell. It wasn't her own little adventure. And every time she would try to write in it, her words would go gallivanting off into some distant Cat Kingdom where an evil King ruled and a fair maiden waited to be saved.

Well, she had to admit that she often liked embellishing the facts. Like how she was a maiden waiting to be saved, how her accomplices weren't at all as unusual. Yet once she started her story, it was hard to write. It was hard to characterize perfect people.

Often, she would look back to the still Baron and remember that dance. That wonderful dance in the ballroom all those years ago where she lost track of time, lost track of existence as she swirled and stepped and leaned into a strong chest. Gentle hands guiding her, ever guiding her through the great ballroom. Through darkness and light and everything evil. Those hands held tight through everything good.

So there she was, sitting at her desk at home with a pencil halfway hanging out of her mouth, staring out over her little city block. Muta was licking himself somewhere down the brick fence-way, and a few other cats crossed her eyesight too. But never Yuki. Never Prince Lune.

"Haru," her mother knocked before entering, "don't you have school work?"

"Done it," Haru lied casually. "Mom, what would you write about if you could write about anything in the world? But the only catch is, it has to remind you about someone so much that they had to come back to life."

Her mother thought for a moment. "Are you speaking from a real experience?"

Almost doubting she should, Haru nodded.

"Then I would write a Memoir. A recollection of that someone as a memory."

But, she didn't want Baron to just be a memory. She wanted Baron to be alive. "A Memoir? But that's like an essay."

"Not if you tell it like a story. Through your eyes." She caressed her daughters thin hair before she got up and left the room again. "Don't forget you have school tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am."

"_I have a feeling that she will do the opposite._"

A Memoir? Her mother didn't know how hard it was to write one. How many painful memories she had to go through, the memories she had devilled through in writing these short pages worth. Pages, she admitted, that weren't all that great.

But who needed memories? a small part in her mind asked. Who needs reminders of things long gone?

Haru waited until the door closed, then tore out ever single page she had written in her book. Tore them up and balled them in her fist. Once her notebook was barren, she scrambled for the lighter in her desk drawer and flung open her window. And one by one, she lit the pages aflame. Goodbye dull characters! her heart cheered. Goodbye sappy stories!

When the last page burned away, she whispered, "Goodbye, bad memories."

**---**

"Haru," Hiromi complained. "Why does ever teacher have to assign classroom duty whenever Tsuge has a match? They know he's the school's star player!" In Ping-Pong.

Haru smiled to her friend as she put her school books into her bookbag. "I'll take your duty for today. Go cheer on Tsuge."

"Really?"

"Sure."

Her best friend hugged Haru giddily before cramming the rest of her school things into her satchel and scooting out the door. Things she did for friends, Haru had to reminisce, thing she did so other people could have a good time. So she cleaned the classroom with the other people on duty and took the trash out like she always managed to wind up doing. Though, as she stopped by the little courtyard where that annoying cat offered her the Prince's hand in marriage, a field-full of cattails, catnip, and lots of lacrosse sticks, she just had to smile. Smile and remember this was also the place where she was instructed to find the Cat Bureau.

"_Reminiscing isn't usual for you, Haru._"

Sighing, she heaved the trashcan back into her hands and continued on until faint footfalls came running through the brush. Muta skidded out from under a bush, panting heavily. He motioned in the direction he came.

"Haru! Prince Lune's here!"

"What?" Haru replied, flustered. "Why?"

"I don't know, but he says it's urgent!"

"But I have to finish ---"

"Now!"

Haru dropped the trashcan. "Coming!"

"_And I thought she would be more responsible. Tsk. Tsk._"

A shadow bent to the dumped trash and began picking it up to finish Haru's job.

**---**

In the rush, Haru almost forgot to open the door on her way in, and almost forgot to climb the stairs instead of hurtle up them. She closed the door behind her and looked to the bed where a man sat. Something Haru didn't expect at all. In fact, she almost took off down the stairs again, until his polite voice said, "No, Haru, I'm sorry. I told Muta to warn you."

Muta pounced up on the sill lazily. "Slipped my mind."

She turned back to the man with dark blue hair, almost black, and cocked her head. He smiled to her, his multi-colored eyes extremely familiar. He wore a leather jacket, a black t-shirt, jeans, and --- strange --- flip-flops. Royalty usually didn't wear flip-flops in public. No, cats weren't supposed to wear shoes at all. "Prince Lune?"

The Prince smiled. "Yes, it is me."

"But how, isn't there --- something's not . . ." Haru slapped her hands to her forehead in confusion. "What's happening?"

"I'm not all that sure," the Prince replied. "Last night, I went to bed as a cat and this morning I woke up as a human. To be honest, I was hoping you could tell me. I can't run a _Cat_ Kingdom if I'm not a cat!"

"_Oh dear, this _is_ a problem._"

"This is a problem," Haru echoed, her hands suddenly guided towards her backpack. Sure, her story was similar along the lines, with quirky characters she'd met along the way. And stranger? There was a character in her newly plotted story with the name of Lune. And he looked just like the Prince did now. "I --- I don't know what to tell you."

"_Tell him _something_, Haru!_"

"I-I think it might have something to do with the story I'm writing. I don't know though. Really. I don't. Not yet."

"Story?" Prince Lune raised his eyebrow. "Haru, are you trying to bring the Baron back to life? I heard he was taken by Death, but Haru --- Haru listen, that's insane! You don't know what type of sorcery you're messing with."

Haru was suddenly very protective. "It's nothing bad! I just want him to come back."

"Using the wrong means. What you're doing is --- is witchcraft, Haru. If you truly want to bring him back, do it in memories. Not in fake memories of real people!" The Prince stood, towering over her with a good six inches. "Listen to reason, please."

The young woman shook her head. "I won't write memories! Memories are gone ---- they're the past! There are other ways, I _know_ there are!"

"And you will keep mucking with other people --- _animals_ --- until you find that way?" Even the Prince had lost his temper. "Can't you just retell a story?"

Tear brimmed in her eyes as she looked up to the Prince. "Can you relive something dead?"

Lune couldn't answer. He stood there with a shocked face as Haru ran out of her own house, down the street, clutching onto the fake memories she had written down. She couldn't bare to start over again. No, she wouldn't start over again. Bad memories led to nightmares, which led to Baron, which led to Death.

"_Are they really that bad?_"

She stumbled to a fountain in a neighboring park and sat at the edge, drying her stifling tears. Her notebook lay in her lap, something quite imposing now that she thought about it. It was a stupid idea, she had to admit, to think she could create some parallel universe where things were so different, they were opposites of her world. Her reality.

Opening the book, she carefully tore the pages out and looked over them once more.

"_Why are those memories so bad, Haru? Why are they so broken?_"

Carefully, she laid the papers into the fountain, and submerged them until the ink ran through the pages, and the words became lost in the gentle flow of cool water from a fish's mouth. And then she left them there, floating on the surface so anyone could come by. Come by and not recognize a single word, only a memory, a small memory soon to be forgotten.

Drowned by the shattered thoughts rebuilding, the linking chains slowly coming back.

"_See?_" came that long-forgotten, gentle voice. "_They aren't so bad, now are they?_"

No, she smiled, no they weren't.

* * *

Continue: Yes? Maybe No?


	4. Murder of Crows

Alrighty, here's the next chapter! This chapter was a joy to write --- I was really looking forward to this chapter so much. : D And I finally got to write it! Whee! Please enjoy! 

**

* * *

**

_Engel's Zimmer_  
**Chapter 4 --- _A Murder of Crows_**

"HARU!" Hiromi called for the third time through the phone to her distracted friend.

Haru dropped the pencil from her mouth and answered hastily, "Yeah?"

"Jeez, I feel like I'm talking to my grandma whenever I call you these days. Why don't you ever want to talk?"

"I do," she lied, taking the pencil in her writing hand to jot down the word she had been searching for while her friend screamed her name over the phone. In truth, talking on the phone had become a slight hassle, especially when it came to Hiromi's constant rantings ofTsuge. It was nice that they still loved each other, of course, but Haru knew almost everything about them and their dates, so when she found out that Hiromi frenched him for five minutes straight, it wasn't that much of a shocker. "Why don't you two go ahead and get married."

"_What_?"

"It's what you two want, isn't it? To spend a lifetime together, a witness to each other's life." A life, she wanted to say, that sometimes didn't mean anything to anyone else. Not particularly speaking to Hiromi and Tsuge either.

Her friend sighed. "Honestly. You need to stop writing whatever you're writing and go back to the old Haru. I miss her."

Haru only smiled and tapped her pencil to her lips. The were quiet for a moment, exchanging mental neurons when she asked to no one in particular, "I wonder what it would be like to kiss a cat . . ."

On the other side, Hiromi must've spewed her milk, then gagged on it. "_C-CAT?_ Okay, seriously now. What are you writing?"

"Well, I was just wondering, you know."

"Why? You can't fall in love with a _cat_. Remember Biology? We're in the same Kingdom, but a completely different specie. Do you know what it'd be like to have _kids_? Or communicate for that matter!"

It'd be harder, Haru thought absently, if he were a statuette. "Sorry for asking." She took a different route so her best friend wouldn't think she'd gone mental. "What are you wearing to the dance? It's in a few days, you know."

Hiromi squealed on the other line. "It's gorgeous! Like, you know that dress that I picked out when Mrs. Shizuku . . ."

The pencil brushed against the blank paper as her friend talked. The gray letters melded together, swirling endlessly into a vast mold, a picturesque moment. And the pencil didn't break, not as she described the intrepid spins, those eyes that knew her, knew her soul. Her hands moved across the page like a dance. Left. Right. Dot. Stroke. Sweep! And then again. Again!

Her memories guided her hands through the dance she had cherished. In front of the Cat King --- how she wanted to laugh in his face! In front of so many cats, so many query eye wanting her to fall. But she did not. Those hands that kept her steady, the warmth of his fingers around hers . . . and that voice.

The voice that kept her from falling.

And yet, in a way, she fell harder and faster than she had ever fallen before. Fell before anyone could catch her. She didn't want anyone to catch her, not unless it was over.

Not until she had tried her best to bring that unbroken voice to life again.

" . . . and it has little blue bows in the back! Oh Haru! I _love_ it! And the shoes! Oh, the shoes are white five-inch heels that lace all the way to my knees. They're as hard as hell to walk in, but I'll manage! Anything for Tsuge."

Anything for Tsuge.

Haru smiled as Muta came up to sit on her desk, yawning and rubbing his full stomach from her mother's meal downstairs. "Man, I'm stuffed!"

She petted his ears and looked out her window to the dusting of gold and orange sprinkled across the horizon. It was funny really. Hiromi would do anything for Tsuge.

And she would do anything for Baron.

**- - -**

In her first class that Monday, Haru couldn't find time to write between World History and her English paper due next class period. That, and the underlying fact that today was the only day to buy tickets to the Spring Formal. Tsuge bought a ticket for Hiromi, they would go rain or shine, and he was nice enough to offer Haru one too, but she declined.

"I'll be okay," she replied politely. "You never know, I could have my own courtier for the night."

"Are you sure?" Tsuge asked, grinning, "I got paid over the weekend and I'd be more than generous Haru."

"No. I'm alright, but thanks though. It's sweet." And somewhat sour on the same note. Both Hiromi and Tsuge must feel awful knowing that she didn't have a date for the night when half of the school already had their dress, shoes, and pearls. All she had were pieces of paper stuffed in an overcrowded notebook, and a fat cat at home gorging over her mother's Angel Foodcake. "Not like I'd go alone, anyway," she muttered to herself, then glanced at the happy couple slowly trotting away, laughing and cuddling into one another. "Or be a third wheel."

_"Third wheel? I don't understand half this lingo." _

Haru sighed. "It means a tag-alonger ---" she froze and whipped her head around. No one there. Okay, now she truly was hearing things. Before, she thought it was just her own imagination, but a few nights ago, it became too real. Especially when the voice whispered to her. And then just now. "Okay, I'm not loosing my mind, I'm not loosing my mind, I'm not ---"

"Haru," Machida, who sat beside her in this class, hissed, "stop talking to yourself. It's annoying. You're scaring my girlfriend away." And once she found out what a total jerk he was, she began to loath him instead of like him.

"Oh, sorry for ruining it," she replied calmly.

_"He's bloody arrogant." _

Haru half-nodded, then passed the voice off again as a figment. She was quite sure it was. Besides, no one she knew had that kind of voice.

After first class, she had managed to finish her English paper and set to work on the twelfth chapter of her memoir. Halfway through the memories of the maze, she was forced to close her notebook and stand in front of the whole class as punishment for not paying attention. Stand in front of the class and recite all of the hellos and goodbyes in English. She also had to ask, "What is your favorite color?" and "How doth the pretty crocodile improve his shining tail?"

Their teacher was a true-grit Brit. That, and he was a little on the insane side. Haru froze up halfway through the last question.

"How . . . How dove --- dear --- dumb te pretty crocodill impove h-hi . . ." the class began to snicker and laugh, causing her to flush red in embarrassment. She bit her lip and shook her head. How in the world was she supposed to know English? They were halfway across the '_bloody_' world.

Then the voice came to her rescue. He was amused, but also kind. Unlike her other classmates. _"How doth --- say it with me Haru."_

"How doth . . ."

_"Th-eepre-ti krok-ko-dyl."_

" . . . the pretty crocodile . . ."

_"Em-proo-v h-is."_

" . . . improve his . . . "

_"Sh-eye-n-ing t-aye-ll."_

" . . . shining tail?"

The teacher clapped finally and sent her back to her seat. Haru thankfully came back and sat down, and whispered softly, "Thanks."

_"Don't worry. I always had trouble with Japanese." _

It didn't sound that way, from his flawless words. Each syllable laced with the confidence of cornerstones. So achingly perfect. Haru had to put her pencil back to her notebook to realize the voice.

To know who it was.

And when she did, she jumped up from her desk, gathered her things, and excused herself without even saying why. Her legs just flew automatically. Down the steps, through the streets she had walked so many times before. On and on through busy intersection traffic and shops opening up for the day.

It couldn't be him, her mind raced with the thought. It couldn't be him! He would say so if it was --- he would see her pain and say in that voice she loved, "Haru, don't worry. I'm here. I'm here."

The voice didn't. So it couldn't have been him. Yet she had no way of knowing if it was or wasn't. Not until, at least, she came to her house. At the gate, the shock alone loosened the grip on her books so they fell, and the sight of the cattails in her front lawn gave her goosebumps.

Then there were the crows, circling high above, cawing to one another in a great spiral swirling up and up until they were only dots, and then the wind rode them down again in a never-ending cycle. A cycle she had ridden once.

Haru set down her stuff as Muta trampled up from the street. "What happened?" she asked in the bravest voice she could muster.

"I dunno kid. One second I was snoozing in your room, the next those birdbrains were cawing and I left. Didn't see this coming."

"Neither did I." She stepped into the cattails, watching the crows circle in one particular spot of her yard. They would swoop down, pick at something, then flock back up into the crystal blue sky. "Muta, what are they saying?"

He listened, then replied, "Traitor. Fleshy traitor."With a keen eye, heraised an eyebrow to the novice writer."Haru . . . did you . . .?"

"No!" she shook her head violently. "I didn't change anything this time! I swear! I left everything like I remembered it --- I asked you for some of the details, remember?"

In fact, Muta _did_ remember, and that made him all the more cautious. "C'mon. Let's go check it out. Can't hold out forever."

I can hold out forever, Haru wanted to say, but bit her tongue and followed the fat white fluff-ball through the stalks until they came to a small indented clearing. Haru couldn't see anything because of the cattails, but it sounded like Muta found something. The murder of crows hissed at her once before flocking in different directions.

That was only when the cattails stirred.

"M-Muta? What is it?"

"See for yourself, kiddo."

So she did. Folded back the cattails and stared at the man sprawled out against the stalks, knicks and scrapes from the birds over his face and clothes. "I-I didn't do it. I swear," she told Muta.

The cat sat on the man's chest and pawed his nose. "Stupid birdbrain."

Almost on queue, the man turned his head to the side and blinked his eyes open. Black marble. Eyes of stone. He looked down to the cat, then up at Haru, then thumped his head back onto the ground, relieved. "I'm back."

"Toto?" Haru asked, hesitant.

"Haru."

"H-How . . .?"

He grudgingly sat up, a scrape bleeding down his cheek. "I don't remember." Haru bent towards him and wiped the blood away. "Baron and Muta and me were having tea with my special mulberries when . . ." those stone eyes clouded with thought. "I really don't remember, but we fought. I remember a fight. And you. Baron said you were crying --- but that couldn't've been when that _thing_ came . . ."

"Thing?" Haru knelt down.

Muta answered, "Death. He's right. They tried to escape from him and they couldn't. But Baron didn't mention anything about Haru."

"Yes he did," Toto argued. "I remember that. He kept saying she's crying . . . she crying." He looked over to her. "Where is Baron anyway?"

Knowing this was coming, she sat down in the reeds and smoothed out her skirt. It was so hard to compose her thoughts. "He's a statuette --- and not what you think either. He's . . . gone."

The man looked like he had gone pale. "_What_?"

"Gone. Vamoosed. Not alive. Dead." Muta tried to knock that into the birdbrain's head. And somehow, Haru took the blunt words pretty well. She just cringed a little. A little flinch when she should have began sobbing. That was the strange part, she began to understand and live with it. The fact that he just might be dead, even if she heard that wonderful voice in her head. Muta sat down beside her. "And how did you get human?"

"Human?" Toto blinked, looking at his hands. "I didn't realize I was until you said something."

Muta almost died. "How can you _not_ notice?"

"That place, it didn't constrain us to objects. We were as vast as we wanted or as small as we needed to be. I just got use to it." He clenched his fist, then thought of something. "But, if I'm human then . . . where's my statue?"

"Probably still in that courtyard," Haru replied, standing. "C'mon. Let's get you up and that cut cleaned." She held out a welcoming hand, and he took it gratefully, slowly standing. It was then that Haru realized that she only came up to his chin. He was tall, dark, handsome --- the type of guy in a Tamora Pierce novel. His jet-black hair was windswept back, and his features were very pointed, like a crow's. "C'mon."

She led him into her kitchen and instructed him to sit down so she could put a bandage on his scrape. Muta jumped up onto the kitchen table and watched mutely. Both were thinking somewhat the same, both hearts were beating so fast, so impatiently. If Toto was back, did that mean the Baron was on his way? Or did it mean that the Baron wouldn't come back if he wasn't there now?

"You can't fly anymore," Haru finally said, trying to stray off the subject she desperately wanted to talk about. She was just too scared to ask. "Are you mad?"

Toto shook his head. "I can live without it. At least I'm not in that place anymore, watching Baron court around his fiancé."

Haru dropped the bandage. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, um," the man shot his eyes to Muta, who sighed and left the birdbrain to his own trouble. "His fiancé. Louise. She was taken there too."

"But you said," Muta retorted angrily, "that Baron thought of Haru."

"He did," the bird-man corrected, "before he found Louise there. Haru, he and Louise were made for each other --- quite literally. Like soul mates." He tried to sound convincing, but with each word, the young woman's face went dimmer and dimmer until it was blank. "They've been waiting a long time for each other, Haru. A good fifty years, I think."

For a moment, Haru only concentrated on putting the little bandage on his cheek, which was harder than it sounded. Especially when her hands shook, when her heart was ready to break. So it _wasn't_ his voice she heard . . .

It couldn't have been.

Because Baron was never coming back.

"He's happy Haru, you should have seen those two love birds. It was truly inspiring. Really. They are so happy now. They're together."

"Yes," her voice came out steadier than she thought it would, like her body knew this was coming, but her heart did not. No, and that stuttering heart was about to shatter. Shatter and never mend together again.

Toto lifted her chin until she looked him in the eyes. "Baron told me you like him, but I'm sure it's just harmless love, and if it isn't, Baron wanted me to tell you this ---"

She didn't have enough courage to speak, for fear she would break. Crumble into an endless pit of blackness. All that work, all those tears . . . and Baron would just ignore them. Ignore them and live an eternity with Louise. Without even saying goodbye.

" --- He wanted me to tell you, If you care about something with all your heart, let it go."

Let it go. That was good advice. Better advice than her own. Tears pooled in her eyes. Toto wiped them away.

"And if it was meant to be, it will come back to you."

Haru closed her eyes and smiled sadly. Come back to her. If only it was meant to be. A statuette and a girl? How could there be true love in that? Why would he come back to her when he had his other named Louise? They were made for each other. Louise was probably so beautiful, fit for a cat figurine such as him. It was sad --- heartbreaking --- to know that he wouldn't come back.

Yet she was smiling.

"I gotta go Toto," she told him, taking his hands to hold them tightly. "Feel free to stay here as long as you want. Mom won't mind. Tell her I'll be back, okay?"

"Okay but ---"

There was no time for dilly-dally as Haru got up and calmly walked out of the kitchen, into the small forest of cattails, and out into the street. Then did she kick up her heels and run, her notebook tightly in her hands. She was laughing as she ran halfway down the street and turned into an alleyway. Laughing so hard she didn't care which alleyway she chose, as long as she got there. There were so many ones to choose from, but she knew no matter which way she turned, no matter which pathway she would choose, there would be only one destination.

The place where it all began, with the little toy houses and the statue of a crow in the center. It was lifeless now, she could sense it in her gut. Lifeless because he was free from a statuette. In fact, he probably was trying to straighten the situation out with her mom at that very moment.

He would be just fine. Besides, her mom needed company once in a while.

A little house stood out from the rest, the house that she sat beside and fished out her memoirs, and finished them. Word for word.

It was dusk when her pencil finally broke on the last letter. And almost dinnertime when she organized all of the pages and opened the Bureau doors. They were always open for any weary traveler. Even after Muta locked then up.

"If you ever want to," Haru told no one, "I want you to read this, Baron. Even if you choose to stay with your true love, read it and remember me, okay?"

The wind whistled back in reply.

She closed the doors and stood to take one last look around the old courtyard. Her hands guided their way across the housetops, along the circle until she met the arch, and with one last goodbye, turned and walked away.

* * *

_(Is this the end! Oh no! Don't make it end there, please!)_ As always . . .

_Continue:  
A) Yes! Or-I-will-carve-your-heart-out-with-a-twisted-spork-and-make-you-like-it!  
B) No. That was a good ending. Let poor Haru suffer forever without her beloved. To walk the lonely roads of life forever and ever. The End. _(You cruel, heartless person who picks this. : P)


	5. Outcasting Engels

Whee! Thanks for waiting! Had a somewhat hard time with this chapter, because the next chapter was supposed to be this chapter, but then I thought 'No, I'm missing something. Put things right first, Pash-can!'. So I did. 

I'm putting things right by Joe! (or as right as left-kicking person could be right, which isn't very right to begin with)

So Enjoy!

**

* * *

**

_Engel's Zimmer_  
**Chapter 5 --- _Outcasting Engels_**

Baron didn't need to read her journal, he never did, but with her lingering wishes he did indeed stoop down to the small bureau and fish out every last page. Each one warmed his cold fingers, sent little slivers of white magic skipping up his arms. Her words were so powerful even to someone long dead.

Every page was fitted together neatly again once they all came out, and he organized them slowly, carefully, as if they were thin wisps of glass spun by an enchanted spinning wheel.

He sat there for a good while, cross-legged, and read the few pages he didn't get to glimpse. The ones she wrote on-the-go, or when he had to leave before Death's silent rounds through the city. Yet even as he read them, he couldn't help but curse himself a thousand times over.

_"I admire a young woman who speaks from the heart." _

Admire? After what she had admitted, all he could counter with was a flimsy _admire_? I guess I was a bit embarrassed then too, he thought as he closed the notebook tenderly.

His lover pranced up to him, glowing white just as he did. That's all they were now, glowing white things without color or inspiration. "Who's that from, my love?"

"A young lady," he replied. "One of my former employers." Strictly business, he always tried to remind himself. Strictly and utterly . . . _not_ business. "Actually, her name is Haru."

Louise's face would have twisted in annoyance if it wasn't an illuminating ball of white. "Yes. That silly little girl." A silly little girl who cared an awful lot for an inanimate object. "Come, love, or we will be late for Death's silly little dance."

The dance that would enrapture them forever and ever on until Ever never existed. He had been avoiding it for the past few weeks, and Death finally caught up with them that night and told them it was the dance or oblivion. For both of them. Louise didn't deserve oblivion, she deserved perfection. Louise deserved the dance.

He, on the other hand, did not.

Baron wanted to stay glued to this spot forever. An eternity of lackluster dancing was an awfully long time, even to his standards, but it was a necessity to join the dance someday. Everyone had to.

He just didn't think he would go so soon.

"Come on, love, or we'll miss it!"

Slowly, Baron stood without Haru's loving journal and nodded. "Of course, Louise. We shan't miss it."

The two white figure took each other's hand and stepped into a rift between time and space, into a land of honeysuckle and beauty. Yet it wasn't the beauty he saw, it was a nightmarish prison they stepped into, but he went.

His perfect soul became like every other soul at the dance, a twin to a brethren he never knew, a duplicate to every soul before himself. And then, for no other soul at the party had those eyes, the Engel's Zimmer slipped away.

And Baron became just another part of the dance.

Just another thing in a dance that never was.

**---**

Haru was right to think that her mother needed some company. In fact, Haru's mother and Toto got along _very_ well. She even let him rent out a spare room upstairs. Haru was glad to see her mother happy for once. It had been a while since her mother smiled, and she did finally smile again at dinner that night when Toto asked if there were any mulberries.

Haru was right to think that her mother needed some company. In fact, Haru's mother and Toto got along well. She even let him rent out a spare room upstairs. Haru was glad to see her mother happy for once. It had been a while since her mother smiled, and she did finally smile again at dinner that night when Toto asked if there were any mulberries.

Things were fitting in so peacefully, she had to wonder if there was a bringer of Death, what would he say to this picturesque moment? What would he think to a statue-turned-living eating at their dining room table, talking and having a wonderful time? And she had to wonder what drove herself to think the same.

"Haru," her mother pointed with her chopsticks. "You've been acting differently lately."

Haru shrugged. "I'll be back to normal soon, promise." She smiled and, to her mother's astonishment, she did not excuse herself from the table that evening. Haru didn't even think about leaving the table actually, with everyone all laughs and jokes and smiles. She hadn't seen much of that in a while.

Or maybe it was the simple fact that she never wanted to realize them. Maybe they were always there to begin with.

Muta gorged himself again that night, and muttered a thousand curses on his slow procession up the stairs. Toto kidded him by asking, "Do you want me to carry you, fatso?"

That earned him a ripe claw-in-the-ankle attack Muta had perfected on Haru.

By eleven, everyone was situated, even Toto in his new living conditions, and Haru declared that tomorrow they were to go shopping.

For an odd reason --- probably an instinct to do with human male brain anatomy --- the birdbrain paled, "Sh-Shopping?"

The fat cat grinned impishly. "_Beware_!"

"Oh, hush you," the young woman nudged the cat in the stomach. "Yes, shopping. Besides, I need to look for something."

"What?" Toto asked, undoing his jacket.

"A dress. _I'm_ going to a dance." Playfully, she waltzed into her room with an imaginary gown and hummed to herself gently. Under her eyelids, she imagined waltzing in front of the Cat court with that beautiful dress on, spinning, tripping, swirling, until she went into her room and closed the door, then did she stop acting like a fool.

Besides, what fool would have actually thought writing would bring someone back to life?

"Oh well," she said to herself somewhat happily, "it was a good shot."

The figurine of Baron stood on her desk, as regal as ever, but as she stared at it longer, she realized its eyes weren't sparkling. There wasn't a flaw at all --- in fact, there was nothing. She ran her fingers along those eyes, to see if it was just dust that clouded them, but it wasn't.

And then she knew.

Baron was finally gone.

She also knew the notebook beside him did not belong to her, the one Shizuku gave her, and it wasn't her who should finish such a story because she didn't know who Baron was to Shizuku. She only knew who Baron was to herself. Yet if she could say goodbye to Baron, couldn't Shizuku also say goodbye and add a finish to such a sparkling story?

Packing both the figure of Baron and the tattered notebook in her book bag, she made a mental note to visit the author tomorrow. The next morning, she did in fact leave her house. Something she didn't think she could do without rethinking her actions, but her mind was set in stone.

Nothing would change what is. It was childish to even think one person could make such a difference in the world in deciding if another soul should live, or stay dead.

First she visited a little antique shop closed for the weekend and found Seiji sitting in the basement, playing an old violin. He looked startled to see her, but then smiled and waved a seat for her.

"Haru, how did you get here?"

"Shizuku wrote about this place in her story," she motioned to the notebook in her hands, then took the Baron from her satchel and set it on the stool instead. "I think I need to return this."

Seiji stared at the cat for a moment. "Did you find him?"

"I did, and I think he would have wanted to return to this place."

"Thank you, my grandfather would have wanted that too." Seiji set down the old violin and stood to inspect the figurine, picked it up, and motioned for her to follow him up the stairs and into the abandoned antique shop. He flipped on the lights to dazzling carousel horses and golden trinkets long forgotten from India and Malaysia, wooden statues from Germany and Italy, and then, on the table, a figurine stood out from the rest. The one that made Haru catch her breath in awe.

It was Louise.

Seiji sat Baron beside her.

"There," he beamed happily, "they're together. A man dropped off the girl cat, and you just now brought Baron back. Isn't that a stroke of good luck?"

Haru smiled, and found herself smiling more often, like the old days. "Yep, a stroke of luck. Guess they were destined to be together."

"True love always draws things together in the end."

Haru nodded and left. Then her smile faded, and she walked along the alleyways that once led her to the Bureau, once led her into adventure. Today, they led her where her feet took her, to the place she was destined to go. She could feel the magic in her life slowly slipping away, and it alarmed her to think her life would become mundane again. But there was nothing she could do. Nothing at all.

And somehow, she would come to accept that in time.

Or maybe she would never stop dreaming of wistful, childish fantasies. Maybe someday she would go away in her dreams and never come back. Never return to this nightmarish world of mishaps and unhappy endings.

At the house of Shizuku, she gave the notebook back with the simple explanation of, "It's your story so you finish it."

Shizuku almost looked stroked, but then she recovered and replied, "Of course, what was I thinking? It's my story, isn't it? Well, maybe this time I can finish it, and this time, maybe I can bring life into this old thing."

"Maybe," Haru replied, then looked up to her friend with tears in her eyes. "I envy you, Shizuku-san."

The writer sat the notebook down on her desk. "Why?"

"Because you have the courage to write, and understand, and know what will happen even before it does happen, and you have the courage to express yourself, and make a character living who isn't alive at all. Not everyone can bring a fictional character to life, but some authors can. Some authors pull you into their story, and you are one of those people, Shizuku-san, you can honor Baron better than I ever could."

"Oh Haru," the older woman pulled her young friend into her embrace. Haru burst into tears, quietly sobbing into her shoulder. "So, he really is gone now, isn't he?"

Haru nodded. "He's with Louise --- and I should feel spiteful and jealous --- but you know what?" She lifted her head from her shoulder.

"What, Haru?"

"I'm happy for him." Even though it choked her to say that, to squash every one of her dreams in simple words. Words that have echoed along the empty walls of her body from the moment she first laid eyes on him. "He deserves it."

After Haru left, Shizuku sat down with her notebook and stared with intent and understanding, memories tumbling from some long-forgotten part of her mind she had somehow forgotten within her busy life of adulthood. "No, Haru," she whispered as she flipped through the spiral pages to remember Baron a bit better, "he deserves someone a little better."

Even in her story, Louise didn't feel like the one who appealed to him. In fact, Louise seemed very much self-centered, and he seemed a little more caring, a little more giving to deserve such a self-righteous thing as Louise.

"Baron deserves you."

* * *

_Continue? or No?_


	6. Never Let Go

_Engel's Zimmer_  
**Chapter 6 --- _Never Let Go_**

Death sat back, admiring the view of the perfect little dance he had created eons ago for those souls who didn't belong anywhere. For those select _things_ who lived and breathed because of a human hand. What disgusting creatures, and they actually call themselves works of art!

How can artwork be so vile?

So downright _human_.

Especially that one creation, the one who bothered itself with others problems, and somehow reached out so far, he almost became one of them --- one of those imperfect souls of humanity.

In fact, that creature joined the dance not so long ago, twirling his partner about in a never-ending waltz, but he wasn't as valiant in the dance as the others, even if his soul was just like the others. Something disrupted his feet, stumbled his hands, distracted his grace.

And for some reason, Death took pity on him and stood from his seat under a large oak. "Why do I bother myself with this?"

Because he was bluntly bored, he tried to remind himself, but truthfully that idea wouldn't take. No, it was because that one soul deserved a chance, if he was so close to imperfection, to a life only dreamt about. But that would go against his morals. There was a deeper plan buried somewhere under his mask of vile and filth, but he wouldn't take to it quite yet. He wouldn't admit he was that desperate to do such a vile thing. Not yet.

He sighed and walked down the crest towards the dance, and motioned for the glowing figure to come over.

The figure did, and bowed in respect. It was no use talking to a perfect soul lost in time and memory, but Death wanted to know something. "Why do you not participate?"

"I do," replied the soul.

"You do not dance like the others. Why?"

"I . . . I don't know."

Of course he didn't. He didn't remember. "Would you understand if I brought the problem here?"

"I might, sir."

"Then I will, but when you do, I expect an answer to my question, understand?"

The soul nodded. "Yes."

With that, Death turned and stalked into the materializing rift to find that confounded girl who ruined his perfect dance.

_----_

Haru tried to do her homework. Really she did. But sometimes, math isn't the easiest thing to think about, especially when you have a cat rubbing up against your legs and a birdbrain peeking over your shoulder, asking you what's this, and what's that.

Finally, when Toto asked about the problem giving her hell, she swung around in her swivel chair and shouted, "Don't you have somewhere to go!"

Toto stumbled back and pointed downstairs, "Your mother told me to come up here."

"She did?" When he nodded, she frowned. "I'm sorry. It's just . . . I can't get this stupid problem!"

"Do you mind if I give it a try?"

She doubted he could, but she gave in and handed him the book and the problem. He grabbed the pencil from her hand and set to work very easily, smart eyes scanning the problem with almost genius accuracy. He had finished the problem within two minutes while Haru pondered over those very numbers for over half an hour. When he handed the paper and book back to her, she dropped her jaw.

"Can you . . ." she began, but was at a loss of words.

Toto, however, read her mind and leaned over her to show her the problem step by step. Sometime within those few sparse moments, Haru's mother had ventured into the room and sat on the bed, watching the tall man coach her only child in mathematics. After they had done, Haru actually understood Calculus, and Toto had risen a bit higher on 'people to get to know better' on Ms. Yoshioka's list.

"What a dear," sighed Ms. Yoshioka when Haru finally finished her homework and sat back in her chair to catch a breather. Toto and Muta had disappeared downstairs were a delicious smell of spaghetti wafted from. "Don't you think?"

"Sure, but he's my friend, remember." The young woman said, then suddenly perked at an idea. "Hey, I got an idea."

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you take Toto out for a night on the town. You know, go shopping and all. Take him to a good restaurant. Get to know him better."

"But I ---" her mother sputtered then looked down the stairs when Toto shouted at Muta for stealing a meatball. Then did she smile. "Oh, why not? I won't be gone long . . ."

And thus they were gone. Far gone by seven o'clock when both Haru and Muta dug into the over-cooked noodles and meatballs. Haru had to admit, this was a rather nice life. Especially sharing it over meatballs with a fat cat.

_----_

Haru hummed to herself as she packed up her homework and laid out her clothes for tomorrow. Pristine school uniforms left something to be desired, but at least everyone wore one.

As she was fixing to crawl into bed, a voice startled her onto pins and needles.

It was a deep voice, like the ferocious rumble of a freight train screaming across and endless expanse of track. Fearful, and utterly unforgettable. It curled her stomach like poison. "Humans do amuse me."

Haru spun around suddenly, a dark clad figure pasted against the streaming moonlight of her window. Her back met the closet as she tried to scramble away.

The hooded thing chuckled, black shadows slithering from under those silken robes, long, dark tentacles reaching further and further towards her, and when they finally caressed her skin, the robed figure was there also, inches from her face. She stared into the hood --- into a vast expanse of nothingness until deep demonic eyes pierced through that nothingness. That's what it felt like. Nothing.

This thing was _nothing_.

"You're Death," Haru addressed weakly. Her voice was hardly a slither compared to his, so unforgivingly mortal and sacrificial against his own flaunted immortality. "You took Baron."

"And he wants to see you," Death replied. "I took him to Haven, and is he satisfied? No. A pitiful soul, your lover is."

This thing was mistaken. Baron her lover? Haru wanted to laugh, but she feared Death would slit her throat if she did. "I'm sorry, but he has Louise."

Death already knew this, and said louder, so the walls even rattled, "Louise is his soul mate, of course, but _you . . . _He cannot depart from you unless he knows the truth."

"Truth?" A black shadowy tendril brushed against her cheek, almost to congratulate her for her query. It was sickening.

So sickening, Death even brought the smell of cold, damp things long forgotten. Things Haru couldn't even imagine, and didn't want to. They were probably hidden deep within the nothingness he was made from, and hidden she hoped they would stay.

"The truth," the thing began, "of his heart. He has asked me to invite you to a ball."

"_What_?"

"A dance, dear mortal, and you will dance until he chooses. It may be an hour, it may be an eternity."

"And . . . if he chooses me?" She was scared to ask such a childish question. He wouldn't choose her. He had Louise. But she had to wonder as she stared into those demonic eyes, why did the Baron need to choose? Didn't he already know?

Death was amused. "If he so chooses a mortal, we shall see what occurs. I dare say that Toto escaped from my grasp ---" He reached out a slithering shadow to the door, but Haru stomped on it with a fierce glare.

"You _won't_ touch him!" Not after she had seen her mother so very happy for once. Not after Toto struggled so hard to get back. "Understand? You won't."

The reaper wasn't so distraught, as if he lost souls in his grasp every day. "Fine, but will you accompany me?" Finally, Haru found what lurked under those flowing silken robes as he reached out. A young hand. Not decomposing, not even old. But her age maybe. And suddenly Death wasn't so imposing either, just a name. A title.

She had to wonder who it really was under those robes, who really took her hand and suddenly escorted her to this wonderful place between two beautiful groves of trees. Lanterns strung high above, casting a magical, glowing light upon the happy dancers. An orchestra of gray blobs created enchanting music with their strange, otherworldly instruments, and what were those sparkling lights flittering through the couples?

Haru suddenly fell in love with it all. She wouldn't mind to spend eternity dancing in such a peaceful place like this. But when she started dancing, she suddenly couldn't stop. Her feet kept moving in pace, with the flowing rhythm pulsing gently across the crowd. It scared her for a moment, only until Death shushed her worries, and spun her around elegantly.

"No need to be frightened," came that booming voice from a man just beyond his twenties. His silken black hair and glowing eyes soon gave him away, but where had his frightfulness gone? "No need to have such nightmarish thoughts in my Haven, dear mortal. Just dance, and find that one who's heart calls to yours."

Then he spun her away as every other couple did. It was like a lottery, whoever she bumped into, she would dance with. Man after handsome man she greeted, danced soft tune with, for hours on end it seemed. Her feet already began to ache.

When would it end?

Again, they spun into the lottery --- again! Nay, again to another man. Take his hand. Dance. Dance! Shuffling her feet until she couldn't move, but she danced on. On! In elegant waltzes, quick steps --- how long had she been here? A day?

Yet still no sign of Baron.

Haru was growing tired. She nodded off once while a man took her by the waist, it felt so comfortable. And had she yet to see Baron? Or even Louise? No. Neither of them entered the dancing fiasco. Soon, she began to wonder if she would die dancing. From either a lack of sleep, or a lack of water. Her mouth had gone horribly parched.

On the next lottery, she caught Death's hand again, flimsy and weak. "Ready to give up, darling?"

"I thought," Haru rasped, "it wasn't my choice."

"It's not," he agreed, "but you can always end it. You can leave out of free will."

Somehow, that didn't sound right at all. Leave? But she had to prove to Baron that she could stay, that she could wait for him forever. Gently, she pushed Death away. "I'm sorry, but I want to find him." She didn't care anymore if he loved her, just to see him loved would please her enough. Just to see him smile once. "I want to make sure he's --- he's happy."

Death's eyes softened, "Haru."

He spun her around gracefully, and when she swirled back, the cat figurine she had waited for took up her hands gracefully and waltzed with her. Not Death, not a stranger, but Baron. Though, immediately she knew something was amiss. Some strange nonexistent glint in those dark, dark eyes. Where was the color? That shimmer? It shivered her to the bone when she thought about it.

"Hi, Baron."

The figurine did not respond. He stared across her shoulder regally, statue-like. Not even his embrace was warm. Haru lowered her eyes.

"Baron," she tried again. Tried to get those wondrous eyes to light up to her. "I wrote a story for you, of our adventures in the Cat Kingdom. Did you read them?"

Again, that wooden expression upon his face. He was staring at something else --- longing for _someone_ else. When he spun her again callously, she saw who he stared to with those eyes that would not look at her. A soul mate much more suited than her. The figurine did indeed look the part, at least, and Haru knew she acted the part too, with those rich green eyes and that lavish white complexion.

No wonder Baron did not want to return.

Louise was so much prettier.

_"Always believe in yourself, Haru." _

She wanted to laugh at the statement, but she kept to his words, she believed. "I put them in the Bureau, you always said the doors were open. My work's fat too, I had to stuff it in this huge binder, you know." She laughed at herself. "Guess I just write too much --- but there's so much to say, you know?"

Just a few more steps until the roulette again, until she fell into the stranger's arms. That's how life went, a never-ending flow of uncaring hands and quaint dances until the dancer finally gave up, gave in to the dance and disappeared. Just once, she didn't want to be passed on like a hot potato to the next ungiving man. Just once she wanted someone who wouldn't let go. Someone who would _never_ let go.

But that was like wishing for a fairytale, and those weren't real.

Cinderella never got her happy ending after all, Haru supposed.

She sighed and slacked her hands from his. "I've done everything Baron. I don't know what else you want me to do. I don't."

Just five more steps. Five more until she would never see him again, until she would drift away and give up. Succumb to Death's wishes. Surely the immortal wanted her to surrender.

"If there's nothing else, that's fine. I understand if you love Louise more, you know. I can see how you would." A small smile spread across her face. One she didn't think she had. Tears came to her eyes. Of course he loved Louise so much more, they weren't bound by laws of magic, or of wood, or stone. One wasn't a figurine, and the other human. Both were the same, from the same creator. So, to Haru's utter dismay, weren't they suppose to be together? In a truly magical happily ever after? If so, wouldn't she be the poor, misguided peasant girl who bumbled into the ball, and tried to steal the Prince? "You two are soul mates."

The last dance she would ever have with Baron would be in her ducky Pjs, in a realm foreign to her, and with a familiar stranger who would never look at her. That was the worst part of this whole dance. Not her tired feet, or her parched mouth, but the fact that he would not look at her with those beautifully crafted cat eyes she loved. Those eyes that lit up even the darkest of nights with their magic. Their very soul.

That --- among everything else she plunged herself through --- that stung her the deepest.

"So, you know, I won't worry about you any more, okay? I won't worry. I'll know you're happy." Indeed he would be happy. Happily Ever After. Far, far away from any warm and cozy Bureau.

A Bureau soon forgotten.

Would she ever see him again if the Bureau doors did finally close?

No, this would be the last time, Haru knew in the deepest part of her heart. This would be the last time she would ever see him ever again. And that, somehow, buried itself deep within her skin. Deep within her very soul.

Ever was an awfully long time.

She would be alone. Always alone.

Even as the steps clocked away, as the swirls between beautiful people became more extravagant, became more than just swirls, but melding colors in harmony. Beautiful sequenced harmony dancing, flowing through one another, taking another's hand, and trusting that hand to lead them forwards. To catch them if they fell, to protect them if they stumbled. Yet the hand she clasped onto wasn't warm or caring.

He could care less, and slowly, subtly, she finally realized where she lied in this magnificent dance of beautifully crafted perfect souls. Her soul was much less than perfect, so unique it was a sin in this clone waltz. She didn't fit in, and that made the last step until the roulette almost unbearable.

Then she took it with a stumble, and closed her eyes.

"I love you," she whispered as he spun her away.

In the elegant swirls, another perfect hand reached out to her, another stranger she couldn't bare to gaze at, and just when she reached out to his, Baron wouldn't let go.

He held on tightly, like he suddenly couldn't let go.

No, he _wouldn't _let go.

_"Haru."_

Continue?


	7. Ever After

Hallo readers! Sorry for taking so long, I've had previous obligations with marching band. I've also been working on a online novel site. It's finally done. W00t: )

If you like my fanfictions, you might just like my original fiction as well. It's dubbed _Never-After._

ww w . fre ew e bs .co m/ a d d y - c ha n /

: P Take the spaces out in the URL bar to get there.

Now, off of my propaganda rampage and onto multiple hugs for my reviewers! Thank you all so much! And now, without further adou, I reunite you with Baron and Haru!

Enjoy!_

* * *

_

_Engel's Zimmer_  
**Chapter 7 - Ever-After**

That one caring movement made the waltz problematic, yet the other outstretched hand bypassed her, and caught onto another's. That other was Louise, who glared to her almost hatefully. _Almost_. But glares of hate proved to be too low of standards for such a snobbish feline.

In that moment, Haru saw a different side to the dance, a pompous, snide side she hadn't expected to find. Upturned noses and disrespecting glares. Who would have guessed they all hated her? Every face she turned to, every eye she fell upon, they stared back condescendingly. Like she was a rat under their feet, scurrying about, trying to find a safe, sturdy legs to rest under.

Then a white-gloved hand pulled her face back. "Don't watch them," Baron finally spoke.

Haru almost smiled. "Why? I don't care. I've had worse looks."

He stared at her, baffled yet mystified. A look woven with a familiar glint she had seen boys her age bestow upon beautiful women. "You have truly grown, Haru."

That made her somewhat sadder. "Sorry I didn't visit." Even as her hands slipped away, he gripped them tightly. Those hands that didn't want to let go. Haru looked up again, surprised. "Why don't you hate me for it?"

"Because I have no room to talk. I too forgot about you, but only recently."

The reason his eyes were not sparkling, the reason the shimmer had gone. That shimmer that would not fall upon her ever again. So she would do as he asked. She would finally let him go. "Then I forgive you."

"As do I."

They danced for a while yet, Louise surfacing once in a while to stare at the strange couple. A human and a statuette. How queer, how utterly odd. When the white cat disappeared again, Haru knew Louise wouldn't surrender until she, herself _had_, and that notion made her dance longer. Made her heart want time to freeze forever. Yet the longer they danced, the more uncomfortable they became. She knew it had to be then, before her heart crumbled, or never.

So the young woman took destiny into her own hands and let go of his. The whole procession stopped instantly. The strange instruments faded away, the lavish lighting dimmed, and those condescending perfect people stared. Stared and waited for her to admit her childish fancy.

"I . . . I hate to interrupt, Baron, but I have to get going."

He nodded, almost relieved. The torture would soon be over for him, Haru thought sadly, and then he could forget about her again and live forever with Louise. Forever and ever until the end of time.

Somehow, Haru wanted to congratulate Louise because she had won. After all the hard work, after all those crystalline tears, Louise would still win. That's love for you, dear, Haru thought miserably.

"But I," she hesitated. Quietly, Death came up behind unnoticed and slipped a large notebook between her shaking fingers. He didn't have to say anything, but she knew what he meant. _Good_ _luck_. Good luck. Hesitation vanished as she lifted the notebook to Baron with a grin. A grin to hide all of her gloom. "I want you to read this."

He looked to the ratty notebook he held before. "Yes, you told me about it. Your story, correct?"

Haru nodded and inched it closer.

"Read it?" he almost was at a loss of words. She addressed him, asked him so gently to read her thoughts and her secrets, but that wasn't the cause of his loss for words. Haru was smiling, smiling so brightly that his dark eyes shimmered, if only a little.

At last he took the notebook uncertainly and looked at the old and worn binding. It was loved, he could tell, and beautiful in its own unique way. Every heartbeat, every breath that came from it, he felt something familiar, yet something quiet different. Quiet powerful. A power he had never felt from Louise.

Something hidden, yet something quiet obvious.

Those pages he had glimpsed before.

And without a word, Haru turned and made her way through the posh people in tuxedos and vibrant dresses, then nodded to Louise and told her, "Take good care of him."

The feline statuette gasped in surprise. "Of course! What else do you think I would do with my beloved? Sell him off? Think of some fancy notebook to jot all of my dreamy thoughts about him in? Ha!"

Yet the young woman only smiled, for that was all she could do at the moment because no words would come, and kept on her way. Somewhere into the grassy crests of the night, Death materialized beside her, calmly, as if he had seen true love triumph every day.

The man wasn't at all what she expected. In fact, Haru had to laugh at her visual fixation of Death. A great reaper with a silver scythe, looming in the ghostly darkness. But in fact, he was no different from anyone else. No less sociable. Truthfully, Haru felt as if she could tell him her whole life story and he would understand, and nod, and _listen_. She expected him to be quite a good listener, actually.

He walked with her in silence, then asked, "Are you satisfied?"

"Yes," she replied. "I am."

"Good." Without warning, he took her from behind and ringed her around the throat. His hands became sharp and metallic, like steel or some type of blade. Silvery claws that shone in the dim moonlight. "Sorry Haru," he sounded generally apologetic, "but it's my job."

"Job?" she choked. And just a few seconds ago they were walking like friends. "But I thought ---"  
"You don't just disrupt my dance without punishment," he told her darkly, his cold blades curving down her pale cheek. "Do you know how many eons it has taken to accumulate this many souls?"

Haru gulped.

"Exactly, a very long time. And I am about to have another soul to add. A few more, actually. Maybe precious Hiromi will join you? Tsuge? Mrs. Yoishika?" His voice dipped to dangerously low. "Toto? Muta? So you may all live happily _never_ after."

A rock had figuratively fallen on Haru. A huge frozen rock too heavy to budge. She couldn't move, couldn't breath. It all became clear to her. "You set this up."

Silver licked flesh as he bent to her ear and hissed, "What do you expect, love? I _am_ Death."

If only she'd figured it out. Death took Baron and Toto away in hopes to ruin her life for good. "Did you expect the novel?"

"Actually? No. I didn't, but it worked rather well, don't you think?"

Haru hung her head. "Yes."

Then Toto escaped, he couldn't have count on that, and then he brought her here. He made them suffer through rain and shine --- he brought Louise to the shop to watch Haru suffer! He was the one who took away everything hopeful and remotely wonderful. Death took away Baron's eyes. He took away his soul.

The young woman closed her eyes tightly to block out the tears. All of a sudden, her energy had fled, all of her happiness, her hope, her future. It all fled away as those horrid fingers tickled her neck, waiting, waning away until the opportune time to strike. Strike her dead and end her misery.

But Death wouldn't be that lenient.

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because I envy you!" he sneered. "You and your happy ending! It would be happy. I foresaw it. You would have felt your way to that Bureau that night and met with him." His fingers cut into her throat ever-so-slightly in suppressed rage. "And then _true_ _love_ would conquer all. How revolting."

Before he could hurt her any more, he threw her onto the grass and turned away. His cloak had resumed, his shoulders stiff with emotion. Haru stumbled to sit back up and face him again. "We would have been ---"

"You would have had a Happily Ever After," he mocked with a croak in his voice. "I could not allow it. No one should be happy if I can never be!"

Then the nightmare turned with new poise, a new set of threats, and came at her again with those sharp metallic fingers. She wanted to scream, to cry out for someone to save her from this madman gone wrong, this thing who was not Death, was not anything she had ever seen before.

No, he was the Grim Reaper, one of the many faces Death had.

With sharp claws, he lunged with vigor, then fell to the ground as another man tumbled on top of him. Pinned him to the ground, and planted his face in the cold, hard earth.

"Don't you _dare_ touch her again!" the stranger snarled, fitting Death's arms behind him.

Death spat dirt from his mouth. "_You_!" he howled. "How did you escape the dance!"

"By the reason you wanted to prevent," seethed the young man as he pulled Death's arms tighter behind him. Haru noticed her novel tucked under an arm. "I never planned to waltz for eternity. Now begone, and leave us be. We have won your game."

The nightmare widened his eyes. "_What_?"

"I choose her," the stranger lifted his gaze to Haru, who sat knees-locked, teeth chattering, staring in awkward silence.

Their eyes met in something between familiarity and strangeness. Haru had never seen such eyes on a human, and he had never seen such a lost expression on her. It was lost. Everything was lost for that single moment when they met gazes, and suddenly the lost part of themselves wasn't so lost anymore, and Haru gazed to her beloved.

_Her_ beloved.

And he gazed back.

Death wasn't so imposing. He wasn't so mighty or so nightmarish. Just a spoiled man who did not get his way. But that was only for a moment, only until he finally arranged his thoughts again and became the Death Haru liked. The one who listened and understood and sat placidly on the sideline while he lost time and again to a force much greater.

A force that had prevailed today.

"I should have known," the Reaper whispered pitifully before he sank into the grass. Sank deep into the loam and earth as if it was quicksand, and he did not surface again. "I should have known."

* * *

_It's a habit._

_Continue?_


	8. Always Return

Happy New Year everyone! And thank you all for reviewing:P Hope everyone had great Holidays.

This chapter took me the longest out of all of them to write. Sorry for the delay. I didn't know if I wanted to extend things, drag them out, or just face the simple facts that there will be an end to _Engel's Zimmer_. (I also wanted to get my romatic creative juices flowing, but that's another story involving sappy romances and The Princess Bride.) This, however, is **not** the end to this story, so don't get _too_ worried!

And the chapter title is lovingly ripped from _Spirited Away_. Tripple Snuckle Fudge Brownies for everyone!

Anywho, Enjoy!

* * *

_Engel's Zimmer  
_**Chapter 8 - Always Return**

The wet dew seeped into her ducky Pjs, and the fireflies, once drawn to her, had flittered off to this stranger, and buzzed around him. Clung to him as if to keep him there, to make him stay just a moment longer. Even she thought he was an illusion. Her heart was stuttering, and it made her world spin with dizziness. She was so relieved, she could cry.

They had defeated Death. They had proved Death wrong. How?

If Death never got a Happily Ever After, why did he give up so easily? Somehow, Haru knew it wasn't the last she would see of him, and that --- more than anything else --- scared her.

The stranger stood, brushing grass from his knees, and turned to her with mild grace, a white-gloved hand outstretched to her. "Let's go home, Haru."

Unsurely, she stared up into the man's shadowed face and watched a firefly pass, her hand raised to meet his. He took her hand, and then her heart, which had held her up through trails and tears and so many hopes she couldn't remember, finally gave way and exhaustion consumed ever ounce of her body. She fell back into the oaks and knew only darkness. And the fireflies.

All of those thousands of fireflies lit in the night.

**----**

Sunshine spilled into the dark room, breathing life upon the shadows and black night, rushing them away into dark corners and breathless alleys. It seemed to shine especially bright that morning, and later Haru would think Death had called back his night to let the day shine, to let at least one day be shadow-free. It would, in fact, be one of the prettiest days of May.

At the foot of Haru's bed, Muta yawned and stretched, absently grumbling why he hadn't gotten a cat bed yet, or at least a feather pillow to sleep on. A down comforter would have been nice too.

"Complaining as always, I see."

The fat cat stopped in mid-stretch and turned towards the bedside table. He must have still been dreaming. "Baron?"

On the bedside table, the prestigious cat figurine tipped his hat to his old friend with a grin. "Beautiful morning, isn't it?"

"But didn't Haru take you to that Seiji guy?" It couldn't be real. He was gone, wasn't he? Muta looked from Baron, to Haru fast asleep, and back to Baron again. "Didn't she?"

"She did."

"But then ---"

But Baron just kept grinning, unable to stop. His green eyes gleamed brighter in the sunlight, so much more alive than the years Muta had know them. There was a curious, beatific sheen to them. Something strange had happened last night, something weird and somewhat miraculous, but he doubted Baron would ever tell. Baron or Haru.

"So you're back."

Baron cocked his head and turned his cat eyes to Haru.

Muta came closer to his friend. "You're --- You're not thinking of leaving her again, are you?" When Baron didn't answer, he prodded further, "You can't! Baron, she's been doing everything to bring you back. _Everything_. Don't do this to her. She'll miss you, Toto will miss you --- I'll miss you damn it!"

The cat figurine tossed his top hat to the side.

"Baron!" Muta trounced over to him, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. If Haru woke up and found Baron about to leave, her heart would shatter. He knew it would. "Don't do this to us . . ."

"There's a lot to consider, Muta," he sighed and pulled up a leg to put his chin on his knee.

"Like what?" Muta scoffed. "There's you. There's her. Put two and two together and _bam_! You got yourself Happily Ever After!"

Again, Baron sighed, his voice quiet and gentle, "Be practical, Muta. A human and a toy cannot live 'Happily Ever After' no matter how many magic spells are wrapped around it."

"But you don't have to be wood! Look at that birdbrain there. He's hitchin' up with Haru's mom."

He took a headlong glance to Haru again to make sure she was still fast asleep. After last night's adventure, he was sure she'd be tired enough to sleep the day away, and his guess was proving right. "He was lucky, Muta. And what if I do become human? I would have no personal history, no records, and no education." To that, Muta scoffed. "I wouldn't have any money, not a house or a diploma for someone my age. All I would have would be a name, and a lot good that does me."

The cat shrugged and pawed his way up to the dresser table. "Baron, have you ever heard of the phrase 'Cross your fingers and hope for the best'?"

"I'm familiar with it."

"Do me a favor and try it."

Baron looked dumbfounded. How could he? He'd never done anything so rash or reckless in his existence. It was idiotic of him to even try, for he knew he would fall flat on his face. But wasn't that exactly what Death wanted? Death had given him a choice, after all, before he took Haru home. He had said, "I will do this for Haru, not you. You both have outwitted me for now, so my consciousness will nag on me if I don't give you your just desserts. I will give you three hours, Baron. If you choose to become human, then you will be one. If you choose to not, don't come crying to me to join my dance again, understand?"

Baron had understood then that he would not have to make that choice. Either choice, actually. The Bureau would have suited him just fine again. But now, as he looked upon this young woman who had juristically changed his life, he was hesitant.

So very hesitant it scared him.

Who's to say Haru would still love him in ten years time? Who's to say that he would still love her? But oh, he would. He knew he would. It was only foolishness that prompted him to believe she wouldn't either.

"Cross my fingers and hope for the best?"

Muta nodded enthusiastically.

He never expected himself to even consider the rash phrase. To rely on simple faith to persevere. It was absurd. Yet the moment he sat, one leg dangling from the dresser, the other propping up his chin, it suddenly wasn't so absurd. It wasn't quite as absurd as he once thought. "Then I cross my fingers."

And then the room, and the world, looked so much smaller.

Baron tightly closed his eyes, and opened them again to make sure he wasn't seeing things. No, he wasn't. Death held true to his bargain. He raised his fleshy hand and flexed it. If his mind wasn't boggled, he might have noticed it was glove-less.

"Whoa," Muta whispered and stumbled back onto Haru's stomach.

Haru couldn't have been woken by even a freight train, but when Muta tipped over and scrambled to get his footing on her stomach, it was rather hard not to feel the weight. She let out a groan and pushed the fat cat off her. "Muta! What are you doing?"

"But he --- but Baron ---"

At the mention of Baron, the young woman snapped her eyes open and sat up, rolling the fat cat off her bed. He landed on his stomach with a loud _thud_. "What?"

She turned to a man, half-leaning, half standing against her dresser, eyes as wide as hers. He titled away from her slightly, suddenly very uncomfortable in such a situation. Neither of them breathed, neither of them spoke. Not until, at least Muta, annoyed as he was, swiped at the man's bare feet. When he looked down, he suddenly flushed a vibrant red.

Bare feet.

Bare legs.

_Bare_ . . . ah. Realization hit him like a freight train.

Death, it seemed, did not surrender without a fight.

Haru found herself staring. "Eeep!" she yelped and dove her head into her pillow again, clawing for her spare blankets behind her. Her hands snagged one, balled her fist into the meaty cloth, and chunked it in his general direction. He caught the wad of blanket and pinned it around him, then stooped to get a good kick at Muta.

"Why didn't you tell me!" he hissed at Muta, who had seen his clear and present danger seconds before, began to toddle towards the door. He didn't get away without a swift kick in the behind. "You bloody _cat_!"

"I resent that!" he cried in return as he sailed out of the room, and pawed the door closed before Baron could follow.

The young man could have gone out and chased the fatso cat around the house, but he doubted that would have been such a wise decision in only a plaited quilt wrapped around his waist. And what would Haru's mom think? What would she think anyway, if she barged into the room and found a man in her daughter's room? "Cross my fingers my _bloody_ ass," he cursed quietly and clutched onto the quilt a bit tighter.

This was simply brilliant. Death was probably laughing from wherever he stayed. Laughing and pointing a finger and doing all of the childish things, and know that he had had the last laugh.

Which, sadly, was true.

"B-Baron?" Haru squeaked, rising from her pillow again, hoping he was not quite nude anymore.

At the sound of his name, the young man turned and met her eyes. He saw her smile, and in a flurry of flailing blankets and stuffed animals, she latched her arms around his neck in a tight, almost choking, hug. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and did the same, abet more gently.

Strange, why hadn't he noticed her scent before? Or her warmth?

Interaction was different from when he was a figurine, as a thing of wood and paint. Then, he couldn't feel her, he couldn't tell if she was warm, or cold, or quivering. Now she was warm, and she was quivering. The lazy scents of grass and dew still hung in her hair from the night before, and her own wonderfully cinnamon smell was that much more _intoxicating_.

This wasn't right, he knew it wasn't right. But then, what _was_ right?

He'd never felt like this about anyone. Not even Louise. He didn't know what he felt, or why or how --- it was illogical. Illogical and yet . . . and yet quite human.

So this was what it felt like to be a human. To care with not only his soul, but with his body and his mind as well.

Gently, he moved his head back, and Haru looked up. His magnificent eyes met hers in a moment when time stood still, and slowly did they bring each other closer, and closer still until she could smell his dizzying scent, and he could bring up the courage hidden away to actually be human. To bend to this beautiful and thoughtful young woman who had loved him so much, and press his lips against hers.

Then was he truly, and forevermore, _alive_.

Haru felt a thousand butterflies in her stomach take flight. His mouth was soft and warm, his lips ever so gentle against hers. He tasted just as sweet as he smelled, and kissed, quite frankly, like a _god_. To Haru, it felt like a million years of heaven, of so many dreams spinning together to form one sole moment, one sole wish finally realized.

She buried her head into his chest and cried. He was real. Finally, he was real and alive and well. He could breath, and hope, and dream, and _live_. Finally live and love, and be happy. What he should have had from the beginning.

"If you care about something with all your heart," he whispered into her ear, his enthralling voice tender and compelling, "let it go."

"And if it was meant to be," she replied, those words burned into her very soul like fire on the strongest wood, "it will always come back to you."

He kissed her forehead and cupped her face in his hands, as if to lavish the moment, to imprint it into his memory forever. Never in his existence had he ever felt more whole. Or more at home. "I will always come back to you."

* * *

Thus, the Cat Returns! Stay turned for the _Epilogue_.

And, this is the last time I'll be able to ask this, so bare with me!

_Continue or No?_


	9. Epilogue

Wow. Who would have guessed we would have made it this far, eh? It's been one harrowing journey, I'll tell you. I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed --- _mucho_ thanks. Everyone's been so kind to me, I hate to be posting the Epilogue. And I hate to be saying goodbye to all you wonderful people too! Milk and cookies for everyone!

And so an ending comes to _Engel's Zimmer_. And maybe the beginning of something new . . . besides, Haru and Baron have their whole life together. What could go wrong?

Enjoy!

* * *

Engel's Zimmer  
_Epilogue _

Death scratched the back of his neck, watching from a mirror the happens of the world above. He sloshed red wine into a glass, toasted the humans of today, and downed the concoction in one quick gulp. It eased the pain a little, but not enough to make him forget. He'd need a good bottle of Vodka for that, and his throat had always been too fair for such a hard drink.

He sighed and poured himself another glass of wine. "_Oh, brother, you never lose souls!_" he mocked sourly. "_Never lose souls_ my ass. What about that one time in 1870 B.C.? Or 1739? I lost souls _then_. A stupid puppet and a hand-me-down nutcracker! Pah! Life forgets too easily."

This time, he left his wine in its glass and watched it irately. He slouched lower in his chair and watched small bubbles in the red liquid float to the surface.

"Not to mention all of those _other_ times," he mumbled quietly. "Which I do not care to recount . . . oh Haru! --- Haru why did you have to leave me like such?" Moaning, he buried his head in his hands dramatically, his pale skin glowing in the night's radiance, his hair as dark as tar. "Oh why --- why?!"

"Death?" came a shrill voice from the dance below.

Death barely acknowledged the voice until it called again. And still he sobbed and moaned to himself sorrowfully.

"Death!" the woman's voice called out. "Death! Stop sobbing like a poor baby and release me from this dance!"

With a sigh, Death lifted his head out of his hands, casting a bored don't-bother-me look to whoever decided to interrupt his pity party. Surprisingly, it was Ms. Ex-Baron, come to reek havoc in his personal hell. Death sighed and sniffed indignantly, not a tear yet shed. "Excuse me?"

"Death, I will speak with you!"

"Says who?" He sat up slowly in his chair upon the tallest hill overlooking the dance, and searched for the soul who called his name. He found her, a slightly less-white soul in a perfect sea of pearls gracefully floating from one song to the next. This less-white one floundered about, pushing and shoving to get his attention. He pointed to her and motioned to draw her from the dance.

With a gasp, the soul came, less-white melting into perfect feline fur, a silken dress, and a floral hat. She was pulled by the coattails of her skirt up the embankment to kneel before him.

"What do you want?" Death asked morosely.

"I --- I want what you want, Sire," as she spoke, she picked the grass from her skirt and made sure her shoes were not scuffed up.

Death sighed through boredom. "And what do I want?"

"Haru Yoshioka."

The eons old entity regarded the figurine comically. "I didn't know you preferred women, Louise."

She blushed. "I don't! Baron is mine, Death! He's _mine_!"

"He has a choice now," the entity replied monotonously, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned against the arm rest. "You nor I can decide for him anymore."

"You mean he . . . he chose to be _human_?"

"Indefinitely."

"But . . . But humans are so --- so --- _filthy_!"

Death gave an abrupt laugh and decidedly picked up his wine glass anyway. "Some are, yes."

"I don't understand!" Louise whined. "Why would --- would he . . . he's _mine_!"

"Evidently," he drained the glass in one gulp, "not anymore. Now if you would be a good kitty, go join the dance again. Forget all of this bothersome nonsense. Baron will return to us in time. Everything living does in the end."

Louise gave a tantrum and stomped her foot like a child. "No! You don't _understand_! Baron's mine! He's been mine ever since our creator created us! We were meant for each other! He's not meant for some --- some _human_!"

Death sneered, "And how would you know?"

She gave a start. "Because he's mine, of course --- and don't you go rolling your eyes at me! He's _mine_!" She paused for a moment. "And if you let me get him back, I promise you Haru will be yours."

That, despite her shrill words and childish behavior, _that_ got his attention instantly. He leaned forward, black hair falling halfway across his shoulder, and eyed her intently. "_If_ you can get him back."

"I will," Louise said confidently. "I promise. Just give me a second chance. I will show him how horrid it is to be human! And then he'll want nothing more than to come back with me. Please, Death, _please_. And then you may have Haru! Isn't that what we both want? You want to retrieve your lost souls, and I want what's mine."

For a long moment, the age-old Death regarded her thoroughly. A million questions fleeted through his head, most he ignored, some he considered, and one he voiced. "And what shall happen if you should fail?"

Louise drew herself up to her full height, narrowing her ivy eyes, and said without hesitation, "I will _not_ fail."


	10. Author's Note

* * *

Hey everyone! Just to let you know, the sequel for _Engel's Zimmer_ is up after -- how long was it? -- about a year, I think. It's called... (drum roll)

Spring Awakening 

I hope you can find it OK! It should be crawling around this site somewhere... Hmmm, oh where oh where is my Baroh/Haru fic, or where oh where can it be?

Toodles, and, as always

ENJOY!


End file.
